


And Come Undone

by Aeshna



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Illustrated, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/pseuds/Aeshna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Charles watches, dry-mouthed, as Erik drops gracefully to his knees at the foot of the motel bed, sinking down between spread thighs as if he belongs there.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Come Undone

**Author's Note:**

> So, [**raffi__**](http://users.livejournal.com/raffi__/) wanted to draw something smutty but was feeling too shy. I said that if she drew something and posted it, I'd write her a ficlet to go with it. In the event, she did two pics and I drew her something for both of them. This is the second (the first is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/337520)). :)

  
  


_Art by Raffi_

Charles watches, dry-mouthed, as Erik drops gracefully to his knees at the foot of the motel bed, sinking down between spread thighs as if he belongs there, as if this is something they do every day. Broad hands stroke possessively over bare skin – gently at first, then harder, fingernails grazing over tender flesh – and Charles's cock twitches with eager interest, its blood-dark flesh taut and full and... _oh_ , oh god....

He can only stare as Erik leans in, rubbing his cheek, his stubbled chin, against that straining, dripping length before pushing up on his knees and then, then, _please_ , yes –

Erik's mouth is hot and wet and _perfect_ as he sucks him in, taking him to the root. Charles makes an inarticulate sound, his thoughts no more coherent than his voice as he balls his fists in the covers and tries not to thrust up into that inviting heat. He can feel... oh, god, so much sensation, _too_ much, and now Erik is moving, his tongue curling around the head as his right hand curls around the base, the thumb pressing and releasing _just_ out synch with, with....

Charles throws his arms up over his face, unable to watch as Erik's head begins to bob up and down, pleasuring him with an almost professional efficiency that Charles knows he will _never_ find the courage to ask about. But Erik is _good_ , god, _so_ good, so hot and tight, one hand roaming while the other keeps its grip, tongue teasing as his lips clamp down and his cheeks hollow and it's all that Charles can do not to grab and grasp and bury himself so, so _deep_....

Erik growls around him, a sound of impatience, and it's only then that Charles remembers that, whatever else Erik might be, he isn't fragile.

He hesitates nonetheless, one hand reaching out to almost touch, pulling back... and then grasping heedlessly at dark auburn hair as Erik does something with his tongue that is probably illegal in most states including this one. God, ah, _fuck_... and he's pushing down with both hands now, chasing raw feeling even as Erik's mind blazes with the joy of the challenge, of the fight, his throat working hard as he gags around Charles's length. It's all...fuck yes, harder, _deeper_ , all shame set aside in this moment as Charles loses himself to Erik's ministrations, pounding up and pressing down and thrilling to the sound and the sensation of Erik swallowing his cock, choking, snarling, and fuck, fuck, _fuck_....

Erik presses a fingertip to Charles's entrance, pushing through the tight ring of muscle... and then there is nothing but the heated rush of climax, hips jerking and hands grasping and head thrown back in unthinking abandon until he's wrung dry and wasted, washed up on cheap, over-starched sheets. Erik is still kneeling between his legs as he finally returns to himself, forearms resting on trembling thighs, grey eyes watery and unfocused as that talented tongue laps at lips coated with Charles's seed. There's white streaking his chin, trickling lazily from one nostril, and Charles watches, fascinated, as Erik raises an arm to wipe it away, staining the sleeve of his black turtleneck with pale evidence of the deed.

Charles clears his throat, feeling exhausted, exhilarated and embarrassed beyond measure. He tries desperately to think of something sensible to say and ends up simply sending a rush of apology and gratitude and desperate affection that seems to have the desired effect, if the too-pleased smile that he gets in return is anything to go by. He picks up on a flash of _relief-pleasure-affection-amusement_ , and then Erik is standing with the same grace with which he went to his knees, stepping back with his eyes on Charles's face as if waiting....

Waiting for dismissal, Charles suddenly realises through his post-orgasmic haze. He frowns, wondering who... and then decides that it doesn't matter. He pushes himself up onto an elbow and pats the covers beside him.

"Stay with me?" he asks hopefully.

And Erik does.


End file.
